Thursday, November 06, 2003

1. My avant-garde views will fry tempers and crush egos of people with archaic mindsets if I continue with my overt postings.
2. I've made no bones about my real identity, thus necessitating mild self-censorship, something that has ruined the efficacy of my entries.
3. Living under the constant glare of public scrutiny is not particularly entertaining. It's like bathing is a transparent bathroom!
4. My write-ups tend to be a wee bit sardonic. It could breed bad blood amongst my acquaintances.

Consequently, future postings will be made anonymously in a new blog.
I may use my discretion in the distant future to transfer some of the more innocuous posts into these pages.

Sunday, November 02, 2003

I've stooped to the level of the masses & bought the November issue of Filmfare, a magazine most apt for the zillion empty cans who populate our country. Actually, the hidden agenda was to procure the text-marker that was bundled free with the copy. I guess that extenuates my case a bit, though I'm still guilty of patronizing tabloid stuff!

Tuesday, October 28, 2003

Saturday, October 25, 2003

Diwali was all set to begin with a bang, until the rain gods conspired to open the floodgates. The festival of lights lay paralyzed, held hostage by an ominous twist of fate.
However, our irrepressible spirits ultimately triumphed over the celestial designs & a spectacular show of lights, sounds and sparkles was gradually unveiled in all its splendour.
Muffled though the celebrations may have been, we had a whale of a time.

Monday, October 13, 2003

I'm back in the spartan environs of the City of the Demented (Ranchi) after spending my fortnight-long vacation in the City of Joy (Kolkata). My holidays remained mostly uneventful & I got sucked into the myriad plots of the boob tube, stumbling across a great movie called Zelly & Me. Durga Puja faded into the backdrop. It rained cats and dogs for 3 days continually after Dashami.

Saturday, October 11, 2003

Saturday, September 27, 2003

Hitler's gas chambers must have been more entertaining. I arrived late owing to academic obligations, and thank my stars for not making me endure the entire ordeal of the chaotic party. Lunch was stretched beyond its permissible hours to oblige people like me & I had to make do with the leftovers. It took me some time to realize that the dance arena had been converted into the makeshift dining space & it was this treasured area that I was inadvertently hogging. The organizers were itching to get on with the cultural events & I didn't have the cheek to hold everybody to ransom just to satiate my enormous appetite. The buffet system failed to impress and I was left without a second helping. Hurrying thru my paces, I quickly emptied my plate and vacated the spot. My spurned affair with the culinary delights left me more famished than filled.
Meanwhile, Siddharth decided to play second fiddle and assumed a low profile running errands. This was in stark contrast with the storm he had spun only a few days ago on account of an altercation with Ankur during the funding rounds.
What followed lunch managed to banish me to instant boredom. The questionnaire posed by our batchmates to pit the wits of the freshers exhibited a severe poverty of imagination. One needs the IQ of an antelope to come up with such drab and unimaginative teasers. Surely the seniors had lost their thinking caps! It was Hobson's choice all the way for our hapless juniors.
The double debacle had nudged me beyond my point of endurance and I sought to beat a hasty retreat to my room as I had to leave for my journey to Kolkata in a few moments. I did a houdini and was soon on my way back. It was sheer serendipity that brought me across an auburn-haired, doe-eyed, drop-dead-gorgeous lady en route. As I was desperately thirsting for a reprival, I promptly decided to fall in love (or something like it) with the lovely damsel.
Hunger pangs would have made my rail journey excruciating had it not been for the sweet memory of my new found love!

Monday, September 22, 2003

Mosquitoes in Ranchi are in a class of their own. They could suck an elephant dry in 30 seconds flat. The female mosquitoes need our protein rich blood to lay their eggs. Some abstinance on their part would make the world a better place to live for the human race.
Come evening and a band of jihadi mosquitoes gather in full force in my room. Their belligerence could instil fear into the bravest of hearts. Santosh (my rhinoceros-skinned roommate), the country bumpkin that he is, is seemingly immune to their attacks and remains aloof in his own world. He is the quintessential simpleton and has been the butt of many of my condescending jokes. His phlegmatism even in the face of their (mosquitoes) sustained attacks is phenomenal. The stoic disposition that he assumes could have moved even the Mahatma to tears!
Meanwhile, I am left alone in my misery, bracing up for their attacks. The battlelines drawn and the war canon sounded, what ensues is a fierce exchange of swats and bites between the mosquitoes on one side and me on the other. Before midnight, both sides have suffered serious casualties. Some of them them have attained martyrdom trying to suck my precious blood, while the luckier ones have escaped with the booty. I'm a much weakened person, having lost a few litres of my coveted A+.
I retreat to the confines of my bed, to recuperate from bloodloss, multiple bites and a bruised ego. The net protects me from a renewed round of assaults by the next-of-kins of the departed souls. Without much furthur ado, I slip into a deep slumber.
Tomorrow is another day, another battle.

Tuesday, September 16, 2003

Monday, September 08, 2003

Santosh's romantic affair with his own face is a great source of amusement for me. He grooms his hair with a clinical precision that could put brain surgeons to shame! He orients himself in every possible way and looks at the mirror to make sure that everything is in place and moves on to other chores only when he deems himself fit to appear before the Queen of England.
These physical self-assessments happen throughout the day and I take the liberty of entertaining myself with the spectacle!
Such recreational interludes are definitely more fun than watching grass grow!

Why the hell didn't Shikha reply to any of my mails? Well, I would have loved to make friends with her. Anyway, I take heart in the fact that at least I tried to break the ice! This also proves that she is choosy in picking friends. Good for her!
Still, not being acquainted to someone so stunningly beautiful and intelligent, hurts.

Tuesday, September 02, 2003

Search Engines turn me on! Though Google is easily the best bet, I am emotionally skewed in favour of Alltheweb. The fierce rivalry between them has got the entire industry up & watching.
Good luck to both of them!

I had posted the following hoax mail to the mailing list of my school batchmates.

Yo Imbeciles!
With everyone jumping into the matrimonial bandwagon, why should I be left behind?
I recently got married clandestinely in a secluded temple in Varanasi, as parental consent was not forthcoming because of out diverse pedigrees. I hope you folks will forgive me for not extendind a formal invitation. I am attaching a photo of my wife.

Luv,
Deepanjan

Needless to say, most of my friends took the bait!
Of course, I had to let them off the hook. The attached photo of Pamela Anderson did just that!

Monday, August 11, 2003

Saturday, August 09, 2003

Music is the aural transcription of nature. As I listen to Beethoven, my mind is hurled through space & time. I float through tranquil oceans and pastoral landscapes. Mozart encapsulates life in its entirety. Tchaikovsky reminds me of the sweet moments I had spent with my love. Debussy helps me rediscover solitude and embellishes my mind with benign thoughts.
Indeed, music is one of nature's most creative forces. Mathematicians have discovered some intriguing facets about it. I had read somewhere that there is an uncanny correlation between the notes that a pianist may play on his keyboard and the corresponding logarithms of their frequencies! Of course, this happens only when melody and not dissonance is created.
Here's yet another interpretation.
Whenever our brain interprets an audio frequency, it immediately expects a follow-up by one of certain frequencies. Once this expectation is met, it once again expects another frequency. This is an iterative process, giving rise to a chain of expectations and their fulfillments. This is what constitutes melody( or music).
However, when this sequence of expectations is not met and the brain goes haywire regarding what to expect( eg: as a result of a completely random sequence of frequencies), dissonance( or noise) is created.
I guess this partly explains why different people have different musical inclinations. After years of listening to a certain kind of music( which inherently has a specific pattern or style), the brain gets conditioned to expect that type of pattern everytime music emanates. Consequently, I may prefer Beethoven to Bollywood, yet someone of lower intellect may only have it the other way round!

Could things be more dismal? I used to be lean and mean in Pune. In Ranchi, I've put on weight, and have been bamboozled on a few occasions.
Pretty babes frequented every part of the city (Pune). I even enjoyed the camaraderie of many of them. In Ranchi, the girls are ultra-ugly. They have diminished my interests in the opposite sex to sub-zero levels!
Things change...only for the worse.
Surely, the Carpe Diem philosophy of Horace is the only way of living a happy and meaningful life.

Religion is one of man's most insidious inventions.It comes up with a ready set of postulates that we are all supposed to blindly follow. Religion paralyzes some of our most important attributes: thinking independently, questioning and inferring logically. How can the modern man remain so mum about this fallacious institution? For once, let us be iconoclasts. Let faith be the exclusive domain of every man who invents it. Let is be personalized and customized by our concience.

Friday, August 08, 2003

I'll recall an incident that happened a long time ago, when I was just a kid. There is nothing special about the incident; yet, it has left an indelible imprint on my mind.It was an evening just like any other, except that the monsoon clouds were gathering in full force and threatening to spoil it, which I intended to spend with my playmates. The prospects to that effect looked rather grim as the clouds enveloped the entire skyin an infinite canopy of myriad gray shades. Occasionally, the golden sunrays would manage to puncture through the thick covering and travel hurriedly over the landscape before being shrouded.As the clouds descended upon us and threatened to condemn us to eternal darkness, I gave up all hopes of playing with my friends. Instead, I invented imaginary creatures with the morphing clouds and contrived stories of war waging between them.My mother and sister had gone out and I was alone with my dad, who had apparently resigned to fate, as there seemed little prospect of his going to the market. He sat next to me as I peeped out of the window, dabbling with the heavenly figments.Soon, the precursory minor storm, so typical of Jamshedpur ensued. The trees swayed in joy as the rustling leaves joined in to sing the evening serenade. The towering Eucalyptus trees were the most pepped up, as they danced in their own extravagant sways in slow tempo. Thunder and lightening were the ultimate harbingers to our first monsoon rain. I was actually beginning to enjoy myself and getting involved to witness the marvelous show of nature.The rain was sudden and hit against the ground ruthlessly. With it came the nostalgic smell of wet soil! My dad and I were totally captivated by the sheer splendor of the first monsoon rain. There was a slight concavity on the ground in front of our house and rainwater was beginning to collect there. All of a sudden, I had this craving to go out into the rain and soak myself. I asked my dad for his approval, little expecting an affirmative reply. To my utter surprise, he permitted without a moment's hesitation; and my heart knew no bounds as I leaped out of the bed and ran through the door into the rain.It was rapturous! I stalled myself in the middle of the depression and jumped into the air with screams of joy. The muddy water splashed with each of my landings, adding to my excitement. As I jumped with gay abandon, I was transported into a world of sheer joy and euphoria. For those splendid yet ephemeral moments, I was the happiest soul in the world, with nothing to worry or fear. My unison with nature was bewitching and my delightful screams reached a crescendo. To this day, I can vividly recall my dad's smiling countenance. Perhaps, I had inadvertently led him into his own childhood, when he too had done something similar.Elsewhere on the ground, rainwater was gathering and marching in tiny makeshift tributaries into the drains which too seemed to have joined in nature's symphony by lending its own baritone roar. All that was green now looked greenerafter the much needed bath. As I was unwilling to relent, my dad had to drag me in, where I took a bath for fear of catching a cold. I don't remember much of what happened next because I was too dazed by the magic!Years have gone by, but nature never forgets to enact that spectacular show. Ironically though, my erudition accrued over the years has never helped me rediscover that utter sense of exultation. I have grown more conscious of myself and the people around me. Paradoxically, as we acquire more knowledge, we tend to forget the greatest endowment of all: innocence. Yet, whenever I see an approaching monsoon rain, I get this insatiable desire to break all the rules and listen to a subdued call of my heart, the call that propelled me to a world I will perhaps never rediscover!

Thursday, July 31, 2003

The following is an autoresponder I had composed a long time back. I received some funny replies!

Deepanjan is my name
Widespread is my fame

Dear biodegradable creature,
How dare you have the cheek to send me a mail!Have you even
the ghost of an idea how hideous is your crime?Hoping(but not expecting),that
your offence was committed under a spell of evanescent irrationality, you are
hereby permitted to continue feasting your eyes on this epistolary masterpiece.
You must obviously be aware that I belong to a higher sphere,and consequently dislike interacting with mere mortals like you. However,since I have been endowed with great magnanimity,I'll definitely condescend you by reading your frivolous mail within a month. However,a response will be sent only if you are worth your existance.
Since a personal reply is indicative of your worthiness,please feel free to consider yourself worthless and useless if you do not receive it within the stipulated period.In such a case,you are fraternally and in the best interest of posterity,advised to annihilate yourself.Non adherence would evince the immutability of your lunacy,thereby necessitating your immediate and forceful extermination without much ado.
Carpe diem!

Indignantly yours,
Deepanjan

Addenda:

1.Mails meant for me should be sent only to
deepanjan_nag_xp at hotmail dot com Mailing to my superfluous addresses would hasten your
obliteration.

2.By now,if you are convinced that your days are
numbered,the following lines will alleviate your trauma-

Happy the man,and happy he alone,
He,who can call today his own;
He who,secure within,can say,
Tomorrow do thy worst,for I have
lived today.

Monday, July 07, 2003

Saturday, April 26, 2003

We had our viva today.Summoned @ 9AM, we were finally grilled @ 4PM! It proved to be an anticlimax as the questions were too easy.
Apparently, I was a bit vociferous!

Classes ended today and our end semester exam is scheduled to begin on the 7th and end on the 16th of May, interspersed with a lot of off-days.

SAD quiz was held yesterday, and I dabbled with the idea of appearing for it, finally settling against it. I was immediately hit by a feeling of guilt and I somehow extenuated it with some valid reasons.

Thursday, April 17, 2003

Saturday, April 12, 2003

Dabbled with Blogger and Livejournal for a long time! Just can't get the hang of HTML by simply playing the fool.
Yestarday was Ramnavomi. Another exhibition of our antiquated beliefs and customs. Will our nation ever see the light of civilization? I doubt!

Thursday, April 10, 2003

I was not impressed with what Livejournal had to offer. It failed to live up to the hype Digit has created. Anyway, it is a nice site. No match for blagger, though!
Perhaps that's why Google chose Blogger!
I have to see the features of Livejournal to give a final verdict, though!

Monday, April 07, 2003

Saturday, April 05, 2003

As an Indian, I have had a chronic admiration for America. Liberty, Equality and Fraternity are its hallmarks, Humanity its religion and Altruism its doctrine. To me, USA has been a manifestation of near-perfection.
Yet today, it is engripped by a neo-Hitlerism promulgated by a man who is at its helm. So vain is he that he cannot see how deleterious his present exploits will be on generations of Americans. So stupid is he that nothing can bring him back to his senses, not even protests from all over the world. So intoxicated is he that he can't see how miserable a condition the innocent people of Iraq are living thru. So contemptuous is he that he cannot hear the will of the rest od the world voiced thru the UN. So pathetic is he that he can't even realise how incredible his make-believe speeches on Iraqi weapons of mass destruction sound, when the UN inspectors unearth ample facts that prove the contrary.
The US and its little sycophant(UK) seem to subscribe to an aura of invincibility surrounding them. Alas, this can only be insidious!Can this mad-man be allowed to take the whole world for a ride? Is global so impotent that it cannot stop America from impending self-annihilation?
Let this be a clarion call to all and sundry so that future generations are spared from being embroiled in a mess of our making!

Wednesday, March 26, 2003

Monday, March 24, 2003

We lost World Cup 2003 yesterday. Our spirits sagged, there was gloom all around and we were emotionally wrecked. The hammering that we got at the hands of the Austrailans annihilated our egos. All-in-all, a terrible day for Indian cricket lovers. Rain intervened and there was a glimmer of hope, but a dazzling Sun soon dragged us back to our miseries!